


Green-Eyed Monster

by halfwit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Castiel, Castiel/Dean Winchester One Shot, Cute Dean, Dean Loves Cas, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Jealous Castiel, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Dean, One Shot, Some angst, Teacher Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3536402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfwit/pseuds/halfwit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything was perfect between Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester, until it suddenly wasn't. The two had been friends since childhood, and were now several years into a romantic relationship. Recently, Castiel has noticed Dean has been keeping secrets, going to more mysterious meetings and coming home late. When he finds a woman's name and number in Dean's office, he realizes this could be the end of their relationship. Now, he just wants to hear it from Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green-Eyed Monster

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the majority of this at midnight last night. I have not had a chance to go back over and look for any errors. Not betaed - any mistakes are my own.

Castiel Novak nibbled at the dead skin on his thumb, a nervous tic from childhood that never quite went away. He had things he should be doing. There was a blindingly blank canvas sitting in his home studio just calling out to be used, but he found he couldn’t summon the energy or creative juices to move from his nest in the living room, in the tidy home he had lived in for the past three years with his boyfriend, Dean Winchester.The same boyfriend who should have been home more than two hours ago.

This wasn’t the first time that Dean had come home late in recent weeks. At first, he would call Castiel and say that something came up with a parent-teacher conference, or that he was going out with a group of his fellow teachers after school to talk shop, and he didn’t want to disturb Castiel’s creative process - not that there had been much of that lately, so consumed with fear as Castiel had been.

In a way, Castiel was resigned to the inevitable. He never fully understood why Dean Winchester, previously notorious ladies man, suddenly stumbled into a relationship with his best friend. They were the very embodiment of every cliche in every chick-flick movie that Dean claimed to hate so much. Despite the dazzling and dizzying happiness Castiel had felt over the past several years of their relationship, a part of him always held back; always believed in the inevitability that one day Dean would wake up and wonder why he was saddled with a socially awkward, often obsessive compulsive artist. In preparation for that inevitable day, Castiel kept hidden away that last portion of his heart - enjoying the love and affection from the gorgeous green-eyed man while he could, basking and absorbing it all to sustain him after the end.

Just because he was resigned to the inevitable, didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell now that it was reality.

Not that Castiel ever mentioned any of these fears to Dean. Of course not. Typically they didn’t talk about feelings much. There was the occasional “love you” sprinkled between them, but for the most part, Dean was the most emotionally constipated individual Castiel ever met. Respecting that about his boyfriend, Castiel tended to hoard away his own insecurities and doubts, not wanting to come off as too clingy or needy.

Things had been good between them. When they made the transition from friends to lovers, it was an almost seamless transition. They were comfortable with one another, and goodness knows Castiel had nearly given himself an ulcer trying to keep his less than platonic urges to himself.

Castiel and Dean had been friends since they were six-years old. Castiel grew up in Lawrence, Kansas, and often wished for friends. He was painfully shy and didn’t quite understand the nuances of child’s play. He was a serious boy, made even more so by the death of his mother when he was four. When the house across the street went up for sale, Castiel prayed nightly that a nice family would move in with children his own age. He wasn’t disappointed.

When the mid-sized moving van showed up in front of the house, Castiel raced to his front lawn to see who was coming. He saw a beautiful woman with pale blonde hair, who looked much like the angels Castiel saw in his picture books. She was carrying a cherubic toddler, who looked to be about two. Young Castiel felt his heart deflate. This wasn’t a playmate, he was just a baby. Then another door slammed shut, and Castiel caught glimpse of a large man with dark hair, wrestling something out of the back seat. Out came a scrawny boy, about Castiel’s own age, with dark-blond hair, and a scowl plastered across his thin face. And Castiel’s heart lit up, believing he finally had found a friend.

It took a few more days for Castiel to be able to work up the courage to talk to the other boy, but as soon as he did there was an immediate connection between the two of them. Castiel learned the other boy was the same age as him and that his family moved from Sioux Falls, South Dakota for his father to start a new job. Dean didn’t mind Castiel’s awkwardness and immediately took it upon himself to teach his friend everything he knew about pop culture and having fun. By the end of the first month, the boys were inseparable.

When they were fifteen, Dean, Sam (Dean’s younger brother), and their mother, Mary, were driving home late one night from a soccer meet. Sam had played in a tournament in Topeka all that day, and because the team won, they had to stay for all the trophies and ceremonies at the end. The night was dark, and the roads weren’t as familiar as Mary would like them to be. Sam was dozing in the front passenger seat - his prize for winning the tournament, according to Dean - and Dean was lounging on the back seat directly behind his mother. They never saw the semi-truck as it barrelled through the intersection and plowed directly into the driver’s side.

The truck driver was drunk. His wife informed him earlier that day she was leaving him, and he proceeded to drink himself into a stupor. After leaving the bar, he climbed back into his rig with the intention of driving on to complete his shift. He never paid attention to the intersection and didn’t stop when he was supposed to.

Sam escaped the crash with minor injuries, some cuts and bruises. Mary, as the driver, took the brunt of the force. She died en route to the hospital. For days, they didn’t know if Dean was going to make it. The freckle-faced boy was touch and go, in critical condition for almost two weeks after the collision. In that time, Castiel came to some not-so-startling truths about his best friend. He was in love with the other teen, and he didn’t want to lose that connection - even if it meant never telling Dean the truth. Just days before, Castiel contemplated telling Dean just how much he meant to him, but this made him pause. He’d rather have Dean in his life, than to have the man completely taken away from him.

In the weeks and months that followed the accident, Castiel was there every step of the way with Dean. Through the pain; through the rehab as Dean learned to walk again after his broken legs healed. Castiel held Dean close and soothed him when the nightmares plagued him; when he felt the overwhelming waves of self-loathing that he lived and his mother died. The boys sought solace in each other as Dean had to step up to help raise Sam - as both mother and father - as their father, John, withdrew more into himself after his wife’s death.

There were tough times, times when harsh words were said and doors were slammed. But, these never lasted long. The two couldn’t go more than a few days without seeing the other. They were ingrained in one another, almost as though they shared a profound bond and were hard-wired to each other at some level.

It wouldn’t be until almost three years later, with the prospect of college looming on the horizon before either of them changed the nature of their relationship. Unsurprisingly, it was Dean who took action first.

The night of their senior prom found Castiel and Dean standing alone together outside the gymnasium where their dates had disappeared with others. Both boys had been miserable. Dean’s date left him for a shot with the starting quarterback; and Castiel’s date abandoned him as soon as they arrived, making off with her friends and never looking back. In that moment, they turned and Dean leaned forward and kissed his best friend on the lips, chastely at first, before it evolved into something much hungrier and needier.

After that night, they were together, and committed to working on their relationship. College plans were hurriedly rearranged so they could be closer to one another. They supported each other through thick and thin. Dean stood proudly by Castiel as he debuted his first art gallery show. Castiel cheered loudest when Dean received his Master’s in education and began working at their high school alma mater teaching mathematics.

Everything had seemed perfect, until it wasn’t.  Now there were these late meetings and when Dean came home, he seemed a little cagey, as though he were hiding something. That night, when Dean called to say he was going out with his friend, Benny, from school and he would be home late, Castiel started to dig. He went into Dean’s office area and started looking for anything out of the ordinary. It didn’t take long before he found a piece of paper with the name Pamela Barnes 730-555-4848. The blue-eyed man felt his legs give way as he plopped unceremoniously on his behind. Dean was seeing another woman. Tears sprang to his eyes, although he tried so hard to come up with a rational explanation for what he was seeing, his brain kept filling in the blanks with the inevitable: Dean had gotten bored and realized he wanted something different, so he was cheating on Castiel.

He put Dean’s office back in order, but kept the card with Pamela’s name on it with him. Castiel poured a large tumbler of vodka and sat to wait for Dean’s return.

Two hours later, the front door unlocks and Dean comes home.

“Cas,” he calls out, voice rumbling and rich, “where you at, babe?”

Castiel flinches at the pet name. Usually he loves when Dean calls him “babe” or “sweetheart,” but in light of everything, it just feels so false. He doesn’t answer Dean’s call.

“Cas?” Dean calls out again as he ambles into the living room, and stops in his tracks when he sees Castiel sitting in the chair gazing cooly back, ice sparking from his normally placid blue eyes.

“Cas?” Dean asks again, voice oozing concern. “What’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you okay?”

He walks over to the chair, somewhat gingerly, like he had been doing something particularly strenuous and kneels in front of the other man, green-eyes warm and flecked with gold, and seemingly sincere.

“What do you care?” Castiel retorts.

Dean flinches back, surprised at the anger in his boyfriend’s voice.

“I always care. I thought that was what people did when they were in a relationship with one another,” Dean replied, trying to lean in slightly to give the other man a kiss.

As Dean leaned in, Castiel saw it. A smear of red on Dean’s cheek. At first Castiel was concerned, could it be blood? Had Dean cut himself in someway? But, as Dean inched closer, the other man was able to make it out for what it was - lipstick, and it was fresh enough that this close, he was able to see the outline of the lips that pressed the mark onto Dean’s tanned skin.

Castiel’s heart broke.

This was all the proof that he needed that Dean was, in fact, cheating on him.

Anger flooded his veins and Castiel pushed Dean back, just enough to maintain a distance between them.

“You have a little something on you,” Castiel said, as monotone as possible as he rubbed his fingers along the rouge stain.

Dean blushed crimson and ducked his head slightly and that was it….Castiel’s saw red himself in his anger.

Standing up suddenly, Castiel knocked Dean back, causing the taller man to fall back on his behind with a soft grunt of pain.

“You lying bastard,” Castiel seethed, letting the full force of his betrayal and anger leech out into the room. “I trusted you. I loved you. I was faithful to you, and all the while you are out carousing and getting laid with some tawdry whore!? Was it all a joke to you? Did you and your strumpet laugh it up about poor little Cassie, so gullible to think the great Dean Winchester could possible fall in love with him? I am not a fool and I will not be taken advantage of.”

Castiel’s chest heaved as he tried to get enough oxygen into his lungs after his outburst. His heart was beating so fast, he thought it was ready to jump out of his chest. He couldn’t see himself, but he imagined at that moment he looked as though he could smite Dean. He wished he could. He wished he had angelic powers, like his namesake, to be able to smite Dean in his anger so the Winchester could feel the same level of pain as Castiel was feeling.

Dean sat in stunned silence for a moment, as though his brain was trying to catch up to process all that happened. When everything caught up, his face mottled in pure rage and he jumped to his feet to prowl in front of Castiel, more angry than the raven-haired Novak ever had seen before. If Castiel hadn’t been so angry, he might fear a little for his safety - or be a little more turned on, it was a fine line, after all.

“You idiot!” Dean hissed, anger and hurt evident in his tone. “After all we’ve been through together, after all we’ve shared how could you ever think that I would mock you? Or cheat on you? I have been in love with you since we were kids.”

Before Castiel could open his mouth to speak further, he was halted by Dean hastily unbuttoning his dress shirt, ripping some of the fabric in his haste, and then quickly stripping off the white, wife-beater T-shirt he wore underneath. Chest bared for examination, Dean turned around to reveal a large, white bandage on his right shoulder blade.

“What?” Castiel breathed in a question. All the synapses in his brain stopped firing. Of all the things he was expecting, a bandage wasn’t one of them. This didn’t make sense.

Quickly, Dean reach behind him, lacking finesse or caution and stripped the bandage from its sticky hold, stripping the tender skin and leaving a raw patch of red exposed. Castiel couldn’t help but wince at the forceful actions on the abused looking skin. When Castiel was able to fully focus, he noticed the skin wasn’t just red. His attention was drawn to black ink, dark lines blending beautifully with Dean’s tanned, freckled skin.

“Do you wanna know what I was doing?” Dean jeered, anger and hurt taking a firm hold. “Seems kinda stupid now, since it seems you have no faith in me, or our relationship.”

Castiel wanted to say something, but couldn’t find his voice. He looked up and saw tears sparkling in the corners of Dean’s eyes. He wanted to comfort his boyfriend, but he was still angry, none of this was making sense.

“I wanted to get something as a permanent display of how much I love you,” Dean continued, relentlessly. “Even though we don’t talk about feelings much, I know you worry about your place in my life, even though that’s foolish. You’re it for me. I thought you knew that, but I realized recently that I may not have been as clear about that as I could’ve been. So I wanted to do something to show you how permanent you are in my life. How being with you makes me better.

“You kinda pulled my ass outta hell and were like my guardian angel after all that shit went down with my mom and then with my dad. I started thinking it made sense you were my angel, since your folks named you after the Angel of Thursday. So, I thought about it and decided I wanted to get a tattoo to show you how much you mean to me. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Castiel felt himself sink down to the floor, the weight of the revelations he was hearing were too much to bear. He was having difficulty keeping up, the words not making sense.

Dean, however, was on a roll, and mercilessly kept in his tale, stalking the room like an angry predator.

“I thought if I got inked, you would see it as a visible mark you made on me and my soul - almost like a brand, or a claim. I thought this would make you feel more secure in our relationship, showing you how I always carry you with me. I was dumb enough to think I was being romantic.”

The taller man was on a roll and he was determined to spew the entirety of his story, not pausing more than a breath, not giving Castiel a chance to ask questions.

“My friend, Benny, the shop teacher at school told me he was friends with a lady who owned a tattoo shop in town,” Dean said, never stopping in his pacing. “Her name is Pamela Barnes and she runs Lady Luck on Oak, if you need to check up on my story.”

Pamela Barnes, the number Castiel found in Dean’s desk. Not a girlfriend, a tattoo artist. Castiel felt a flush of shame begin to stain his cheeks, and felt moisture pooling in his own eyes.

“I went a couple weeks back to meet with her,” Dean explained. “She said she didn’t want to do the design without us planning it out first. So I had to have time to meet with her to talk and review the sketch. Obviously, tonight was the actual ink process.”

Dean gestured to his back, although it was obvious. Pausing for a moment, Dean looked at where Castiel was sitting on the floor, staring at him with a dumbstruck appearance on his face. Seeing understanding dawning on his boyfriend took some of the fight out of Dean, enough that he was able to stop pacing and settle himself on the floor, opposite the other man.

“I was nervous,” Dean confessed, so softly that Cas almost didn’t catch it at first. “I don’t much like needles - not after the accident and the hospital. I told her I was worried. She kept telling me I could do it, and I would be able to handle it. She told me how special it was that I was doing this for you. Worked so hard to keep me relaxed while she worked.

“When it was all done, she held up a mirror and let me see the finished result. I was so happy - it was even better than I hoped. I wanted to rush home to show you, but she recommended I wait a day for it to heal, so the skin wouldn’t be so red and the design would be able to pop a little better.”

Dean sighed as he looked back up into his boyfriend’s red-rimmed eyes. Tears were streaking copiously down Castiel’s flushed cheeks at this point.

“I gave her a hug to thank her for all her hard work,” Dean said, story coming to an end. “She gave me a peck on the cheek in return. I guess she must have been wearing lipstick, although I never noticed it.

“So, I come home, worried about how I’m gonna keep this a secret from you for one more day. I don’t like keeping things from you, I’m bad at it, I know. I thought you would pick up on my excitement and wonder what was going on, but I never thought in a million years you would accuse me of cheating. I thought after all this time, you knew me better than that.”

Castiel couldn’t focus. The words were garbled in his head. Dean sounded so sound, so vulnerable, so much younger than his years. The crimson haze of anger and the verdant wash of jealously faded from Castiel’s vision to make room for his shame.

“May I see it better?” Castiel choked out. “The design? I didn’t get a chance to really appreciate it when you ripped off the bandages before.”

Dean look up, hope and hurt warring in those beautiful jade-green eyes. He nodded and stood up, reaching across the floor to offer a hand to help his boyfriend up, too.

It took a moment for Castiel to get his bearings, he felt overwhelmed and ashamed, but felt more love and security in his relationship with Dean than he ever had before. Dean had done this; he had faced his fears and made Castiel a permanent part of his life.

Grasping the other man by the shoulders, Castiel gently spun Dean around so he could see the design Dean had worked so hard to get perfect for him. Castiel’s eyes immediately filled with a new flood of tears. It was beautiful, perfect, and so very Dean.

The design stretched to fill Dean’s entire shoulder blade with beautiful, black wings, and wrapped around the wings, in the middle was a sapphire blue heart, the exact color of Castiel’s eyes.

His fingers itched with the desire to reach out to touch the wings, to feel the heart beating underneath his calloused tips, but he hesitated, the design was fresh and he didn’t want to cause Dean any additional pain. Instead, he leaned close, until Dean could feel the hot puffs of breath, and gently kissed the reddened flesh around the ink. Castiel took his time, and gently kissed and licked his apology into every crevice of flesh around the tattoo he could.

When he finished, he leaned his head gently against Dean’s pristine shoulder, dark hairs silky and tickling against Dean’s flesh.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Castiel said, voice roughened from lack of use and from the tears he had shed. “I jumped to conclusions and let my imagination get the better of me. We just don’t talk about these things, and sometimes I don’t understand how you can still be with me.”

Dean extricated himself from Castiel’s embrace and turned to fully face the other man.

“Look, Cas,” he said, softly, thumbs tracing cheeks where tears had just fallen, “I’m not the best with words, and that’s my fault. I try to show you every day how much I love you and how much you mean to me. You are the best thing in my life. I love you more than anyone...and, yes, before you ask, I love you more than even Sammy. It’s always you, Cas. It took me a little while to realize that; but, now that I do, I am not letting you go. Unless you want out?”

The last bit had a hint of fear to it that Castiel was not used to hearing from his usually confident boyfriend. He looked up to see Dean awaiting a response, as though their whole futures depended on this moment. Dean said he wasn’t good with words and that he was better with action, so Castiel took action. He leaned forward and kissed Dean with every ounce of passion he possessed. Dean took the hint, and began to kiss back just as enthusiastically.

Dean still was a little hurt that Castiel could think so little of him, but Cas set upon apologizing throughout the night. And, if neither one of them made it out of the bedroom for the rest of the weekend, well that’s just to say Castiel was very sorry and very appreciative of Dean’s gesture.

After that weekend, Castiel and Dean’s relationship was stronger than ever. Although it was difficult for him, Castiel let go of the lingering doubts he had about Dean’s faithfulness and commitment. They were in this for the long haul. With that knowledge, Castiel opened his heart fully, and allowed Dean into that last recess of his heart. There was no turning back for either of them.

A month after Dean’s revelation to Castiel, the Winchester found himself alone in their home, something that wasn’t a typical occurrence. Usually, Castiel worked from home in his custom designed studio and Dean became accustomed to having the other man present as soon as he came home. Castiel told Dean that morning he would be late coming home as he had a late appointment with a gallery owner to discuss a new show for his work.

Dean used the time to veg out in front of the television to catch up on some episodes of Dr. Sexy, MD, his favorite show.

About halfway through the second episode, he heard the front door open, signalling Castiel was home. Before long, the shorter man was climbing onto Dean’s lap, straddling him and nipping kisses into the bolt of Dean’s jaw.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Dean said, practically purring in pleasure at the attention, “but, what’s all this for?”

“I have a surprise for you,” Castiel said, placing one last kiss on Dean’s lips before standing up and stripping his shirt off.

Dean’s brain took a moment to catch up, and when it did, he noticed a large, white bandage on Castiel’s chest, much like the bandage he wore a month ago after….

“You got a tattoo?” Dean asked, excitement lighting up his eyes.

Castiel nodded, somewhat shyly. He was secretly nervous at how Dean would react to his design.

“What’cha get? What’cha get?” Dean asked, excitement bubbling over. He was acting like a kid on Christmas morning.

Slowly, Castiel peeled back the coverings to reveal the thick, black ink, revealing the Bat-symbol on his chest. Dean always loved Batman. Often when they were kids, he would joke that he was so awesome because he was secretly Batman. Before Mary died, Castiel thinks Dean dressed up as the superhero for almost every Halloween, until it was a running joke between them.

Dean didn’t speak, he just stared at the design, and Castiel felt his heart drop a little.

“This is my signal to you,” Castiel explained, softly. “If ever I get lost in my head or worry about losing you, I just need to use my signal so Batman can come and save the day.”

Dean looked up then, love and desire evident in the verdant pools.

“I’ll always come when you call,” Dean responded, voice deeper with emotion.

Later, after dinner, Dean couldn’t help grinning as he took in the newly etched symbol on Castiel’s chest, which he kept bare the rest of the night - fresh air being good for healing and all.

“Maybe next time,” Dean said with a grin, “we should go together to get something done.”

*****

One year later, their friends and family only were mildly surprised when Dean and Castiel Winchester opted to have tattoos done on their ring fingers instead of sporting traditional wedding bands. Pamela insisted on doing them for free as her wedding gift to them.

So, on this beautiful sunny day, fresh from the Justice of the Peace, with a newly signed marriage certificate in hand. Castiel and Dean took turns supporting and comforting each other - like they have throughout their relationship - as each received their matching Celtic knot designs (for fidelity and lasting love) inked on to their fingers. Indelible proof of their lasting bond.

They left Pamela’s shop sporting their new tattoos, holding hands, and grinning dopily at everything around them. And, if they also had crimson stains on their cheeks from congratulatory busses from Pamela, neither was going to wipe it off.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know I am working on two other multi-chapter stories right now, but this story and one other that I hope to get up tonight, just popped into my head and will not let me go. I swear my brain is conspiring against me to get too many ideas and not enough time to get them out.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this. I got the idea as I am going for my second tattoo next week, so I thought this was something a little different. For once, I didn't hurt Dean - too much - okay, yeah, I still hurt him. 
> 
> Anyhow, what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Meh it? Let me know. I love to hear from you. I feel getting feedback helps to make me better as a writer, so I am always open to hear from you. Thanks so much for taking the time to read this, I really appreciate it. Cheers!!


End file.
